OUCH! I hate when I push myself too hard and those obscure, glad-their-there, albeit, out of sight out of mind body parts start whinnnnnning.
Well, that's what happened to yours truly. My best day of drag racing ended abruptly when I over exerted myself at just the right wrong moment. On the downhill. In a BAD pair of shoes. Oops! Can I get a rewind on that? Please?
This little bone, or ligament or whatever it is in my foot is talking to me. And I have to listen because if I don't, then the temper tantrum begins and things get harder and harder to negotiate. Then you find yourself like the bedraggled mother in the store flinging candy and toys at her unruly children in an attempt to just SILENCE the wailing and tugging and crying.
Hopefully, I can settle the matter rather quickly with sound medical advice, a little x-ray help, and a bit of rest. That doesn't mean the exercise doesn't continue. No, just because Drag racing is out for a bit, there's always the slow torture of crunches, lunges, and push-ups. See you at dawn.
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